Heathens
by Caitastrophe8499
Summary: One-Shot: A quick drink turns into a something more dangerous, and Leonard is forced to remind the world who he and his partners truly are.


Hey guys!

So, I don't know who, but someone nominated my story Between Diversions for the Captain Canary Awards for Best Canon-Divergent Fiction! This is the first time I've ever been nominated for anything and I can't believe I'm being ranked up there with some of my favorite authors! I'm so excited! Please go and vote - or at the very least, check out some amazing writing, artwork, and videos from uber-talented people. Check it out at: captaincanaryawards tumblr com (Backslash) vote

In thanks, enjoy this little one-shot. :)

* * *

Leonard smirked as Sara sat down across from him, passing him a few fingers worth of amber scotch. Mick took the beer and downed half of it before Sara took a single sip. She arched a brow as he slammed his half empty glass down.

"Slow down," Sara suggested. "I don't have enough for too many rounds."

"Have you forgotten who you're drinking with?" Leonard asked. "We've got as much as anyone else in here."

"Exactly as much as anyone in here," Mick rumbled.

Sara grinned and Leonard mirrored her expression, slightly more tempered. It was their first shore leave in a while and they were celebrated per their usual style - slum bar and shitty drinks. With the added bonus of the contents of Rip's wallet.

Currently, they were in Star City, about a year and a half after they left on the Waverider. It wasn't one of Mick and Leonard's usual haunts, which meant it was as safe as it could be. Which was not safe at all.

Still, Leonard didn't anticipate much trouble. It'd been a year since he'd had a run in with anyone here. No, it should be fairly quiet.

Then, Sara had gotten up to get more drinks and Mick had disappeared into the bathroom. Leonard had taken a sip, and in the act of putting the glass down, had felt the cold kiss of steel at his throat.

"Let's take a walk," the voice muttered in his ear.

Leonard knew better than to argue, standing up and following following the press of the blade out the back door, away from Sara. No one blinked twice at the sight, averting their eyes and keeping to their own business. Ah, life with the scum of the earth.

He was shoved outside, blinking in the bright light of the Star City afternoon. It was cold, snow just starting to trail downwards, but not yet clinging to the dingy streets. Shivering slightly, Leonard wished for the coat he'd left over the back of his chair. His guide pushed him away, down the dead end of the alley. As Leonard stumbled, he heard a familiar voice.

"Welcome back, Captain."

Rolling his eyes up towards the sky, Leonard turned slowly, calm expression in place. "Scudder. I'm sure the pleasure is all mine."

Sam Scudder, a simple convict who used illusions. Everyone had a gimmick, nowadays. His dark hair was longer than Leonard remembered, but the tiny eyes were much more hardened. "Where the hell have you been, huh? You owe me!" He showed no concern for the closed alley door behind him, the heavy metal would block all but the loudest of sounds and the people inside would keep to their own.

"Owe you?" Leonard moved his head to the side, glancing at the two men who were behind him. They were big and his gun was in his coat, inside the bar. Of course. "What, exactly?"

"For the church incident!"

With a scoff, he crossed his arms. "The church incident. Where you asked for my advice, refused to take into consideration anything I said, and got caught by your own stupidity?"

Sam flushed, his eyes darting over Leonard's shoulder to his backup. "Your advice was to drop the heist completely!"

"Because it was a bad job." He shifted slightly. If the men behind him only had knives, there was a chance he could get himself out of this.

"Bad job?" Sam snarled, stepping forward, brandishing his knife. "Face it, Captain. You went soft."

His brow arched. "Is that so?"

"You left the game, Snart. And people have had to step up."

"People like you?"

Sam's face turned an ugly color, "Yeah, like me! I'm running this town, while you're running around with an idiot and a piece of tail!"

"An idiot and a piece of tail," Leonard repeated quietly. Sara and he had been involved ever since his return from the Oculus. "Tail" was not how he'd describe their relationship. And Mick's intelligence had been brought to the forefront ever since the Time Masters had scrambled his brains. "You mean my partners."

"Partners," Sam scoffed. "Right. Pansy-ass pseudo-criminals and nothing more."

Leonard's smile wasn't friendly, but Sam didn't know him well enough to see the danger.

"In fact," Sam continued, "I bet they're do-gooders now, too. Like the Flash."

"Heard you worked with the Flash before," one of Scudder's men mentioned, drawing Leonard's attention. "Turned on the Trickster."

"Turned on your old man, too," Sam added. "Is that it, Snart? You're a hero now?"

Leonard's smile remained in place, colder than ever.

"Guess what?" Sam sneered. "Criminals and heroes don't work together."

"You're right."

"I know I am! And now you're a damn hero!" The knife danced in front of Leonard's eyes again.

He barely glanced at it, his attention on the door. "I'm not."

"Then why-"

"That's the flaw in your reasoning. You seem to be laboring under the impression that I've turned to the side of good. I haven't. I'm still very much Captain Cold."

The first flicker of fear appeared in Sam's eyes.

Leonard continued quietly, his dark rumble the only sound in the alley. "I may work with heroes, but that doesn't mean I am one."

"Work with 'em, or be one. Same difference." He nodded and Leonard one of the men behind him grab his arm and press a blade against his threat. "Either way, you're dead, Snart."

"One little wrinkle in that plan," Leonard smirked, his voice tight beneath the knife.

"What's that?"

"That's my crook you've got there."

Sam spun at the sound of Sara's voice, the assassin and the pyro standing by the door.

Leonard grabbed his potential executioner's wrist as Sara threw her staff, knocking the man back. A deft twist relieved him of his weapon, though he wasn't conscious enough to do much damage.

Blinding heat from behind him told Leonard that Mick was keeping Sam in place, so Leonard took a step towards the other man-

Only to draw up short as a blur of gold and white dragged the man to the ground. Sara moved like she danced, assured and effective. Never two big hits when one small one in the right place would do. He loved watching her move, be it dancing or fighting - or both.

Leonard turned to face Sam as the second man hit the ground, feeling rather than hearing Sara come up to stand at his shoulder. She bumped into him, passing him his coat. Mick blocked the way out and there was no mercy to be had on any of their faces. Just like the Time Masters tried to rewrite Mick a second time. Just like when Savage had threatened Sara. Just like any time someone messed with Leonard's crew.

"Your call, Boss," Mick said, as Leonard pulled his jacket over his shoulders easily.

"Petty theft?" Sara asked him.

"From what I remember, tends to prefer killing." Leonard didn't look away from Sam's face as he blanched. That's what happened on the church job - too many bodies and nothing worth showing for it.

Sara took a step nearer and Sam broke, his eyes pleading.

"But you-you work with the Flash! You can't!"

"Take a good look around," Leonard whispered, leaning forward. His eyes moved in an exaggerated motion towards Mick, stone faced and scarred, to Sara, her grin as sharp as steel. Leonard rolled his shoulders in his blue coat and lifted his gun. "The Flash isn't here."

He fired.

 _After all I've said, please don't forget_

 _All my friends are heathens, take it slow_

 _Wait for them to ask you who you know_

 _Please don't make any sudden moves_

 _You don't know the half of the abuse_


End file.
